


Wrong Side of Heaven

by Krasimer



Series: Don't Take My Sunshine Away [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesiac Soldier: 76, Amnesiac!76, And he hates himself, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Latino Character, M/M, Mostly at himself., Mostly with Reaper, Reaper is angry, Reaper's emotional state flips a lot, Reinhardt is just going to take this in stride and have his breakdown later, Sad, Surprise I'm Still Alive, Swearing, Swearing in Spanish, Winston is annoyed, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a moment, Reinhardt stood there and watched him. When Reaper's shoulder shook, no noise escaping him, the older man put a hand on his back. Muttering soothingly in nonsensical syllables, a mixture of German and English, he looked at Winston. "Is there an explanation?"</p><p>"Soldier 76," Winston gestured to the screens. "We've been working with Jack for months now."</p><p>Reinhardt's eyes followed the movement, his face suggesting he wanted to cry right along with his former teammate. "Mein Gott," he whispered once more, continuing to try and calm Reaper down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Side of Heaven

"Do you really think it's a good idea to send him on missions with his memory missing?" 

Winston looked over his shoulder, typing something into his computer. "He should be fine," he looked back at the screen, his shoulders rolling as he tried to ignore the level of discomfort between them. The last time they had been this close to each other had been when Reaper had tried to take the files off of his computer. Reaper had nearly killed Athena.

It was an attack that still stung, and Winston's voice was barely steady when he had to speak with the man.

Reaper scoffed, his eyes half closed as he continued to read from the tablet he'd been handed. "It's not safe and if I could do anything about it, I would. 76 is in no shape to be going out and possibly sacrificing his life for an organization he doesn't fucking remember, monkey."

"If you were able to do something other than just sit there quietly, Mercy gave me a few solutions for that particular problem," Winston's voice was harsher, an edge of anger in it. "Keep yourself calm and we'll keep your nanites from being overactive. You shouldn't be anywhere near here, as a matter of fact, but I heard about the fit you threw when you were told you couldn't be."

"If Jack Morrison is going out into the field, I am watching it happen," Reaper hissed out, tapping the screen and continuing to read. "Even if the man going out into _active duty_ isn't much him anymore."

Winston stopped to look at him, his mouth opening for a moment before he closed it again and shook his head.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Look, you got something to say, you say it. Don't give me that," Reaper set the tablet aside, wincing when his body refused to respond quickly. It felt lethargic and slow, like trying to run through molasses, and he hated it. "You've always been a fan of speaking your mind, cabrón. You expect me to believe that big brain of yours is finally turning off?"

A heavy sigh made Reaper's eyes settle on Winston instead of the monitors. "What is it?"

"You were dead," Winston started, trying to find the right words. "I worked with _both_ of you. You were both dead, the members of Overwatch who had made it something honorable to be a part of," he adjusted his glasses, avoiding Reaper's gaze. "Reinhardt isn't even aware that you're here. His mission has been delayed, he should be back in about eight hours or so. Maybe less. You lied to everyone."

He seemed to shrink slightly, looking years younger. "We were a family and then you tore us apart."

"Jack had no choice," Reaper muttered. 

"I know!" Winston's voice was halfway towards a snarl, his teeth exposed for a moment. "Even he had thought he'd died. I am talking about _you_. You disappeared, let us all assume you were dead."

"You'd have to ask Mercy about that one," Reaper shot back, taking a step towards the monitors to pinpoint Jack on them. Halfway through a step he collapsed to the ground, clutching at his chest. 

Winston rushed forward, settling near his head and looking him over. "Tell me."

"Hurts," the man managed to hiss out, his gloved hands clenching tightly over his breastplate. "Can't breathe."

Grabbing a syringe off a nearby table, Winston nodded, uncurling his arm and sliding the needle home. With a quick movement of his fingers, shaking only a little, the contents poured into Reaper's body. It took a second, a half desperate instant of silent begging on the scientist's part, but the man relaxed. "Alright. We can't give you that sedative again, not until we know what- What are you doing?"

Reaper rolled his eyes, continuing to hold his arm out. "I'm assuming you want a goddamn blood sample," he rasped out, his chest moving rapidly as he tried to normalize. It had only been a short bit of time, not even two minutes, but it had laid him out flat. "Theories?"

"The nanite sedation made them refuse to function. We slowed them down too much," Winston heaved a sigh of relief, picking Reaper up carefully and sliding him back into his seat. "Don't move, not until Angela gets back. I don't think you want to risk falling again," he watched him for a moment, trying to ignore the shiver of fear going down his spine as Reaper looked back at him. His eyes were almost right, almost the same as they had been before everything.

Going to settle back into his own seat, he hesitated.

With another sigh, Winston stood back up, dragging Reaper's seat closer. "Don't do anything. You can watch him, just don't do anything."

"Sí," his voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper as he found Soldier 76 on the screen and followed all his movements with his eyes. "No soy tonto," his hands clasped together in his lap, his legs somewhat loose and falling to one side. The effect was disturbingly puppet like, strings cut.

Winston almost smiled at the comparison. 

With Talon unable to find their agent, the man safely back in Overwatch's care, maybe the world could be righted once again. Calling Overwatch together had been the first step, maybe this could be another.

xXx

"My friend!" Reinhardt called out when he got into the base, his helmet tucked carefully under his arm. 

His loud voice, jovial for the moment, almost made Winston wince. Despite the space between them, it was still a few decibels above comfortable. "Reinhardt," he greeted, trying not to let the man see his unease. "There is something you need to see. Well," he amended, frowning. "Someone."

With his own frown, Reinhardt put his helmet on the bottom step as he came closer, motioning for Winston to go up ahead of him. "I vill follow," he rumbled, one large hand tucked into his pocket. "Is everything good?"

"Not...Quite."

Concern flashed through Reinhardt's eyes as he followed Winston up the stairs. "Do we need backup?"

"No." A prying look made him squirm. "Not exactly."

A large hand was held up, signaling for Winston to stop. Reinhardt pulled out a small blade, slinking up the stairs in front of the scientist. "We are heading to your lab, yes?"

"Oh, yes," Winston nodded.

Large boots against stairs should have made more noise but Reinhardt was surprisingly light on his feet. With barely a tapping noise, he ascended quickly and neatly, his eyes narrowed as he looked around. He strode for the lab, pushing open the pulled to door and ducking inside.

Winston stood back, his hands clenching as he waited.

"Mein Gott im Himmel," came Reinhardt's voice, a resounding thud following. Hurrying to enter the room, Winston spotted him on the floor, propped up on his hands as if he had tried backing away. 

Reaper just looked at both of them, his expression not even remotely amused. "The mission is wrapping up, the team is starting to pull and head to transport," he held out his hand, offering Winston his cup. "You won't let me get up to get more water, so you have to do it."

Huffing out a frustrated laugh, Winston took it and headed towards the sink. "If you get up you might fall over."

Looking at them, his brows furrowed as he thought, Reinhardt swore softly in German. "He is alive!" he managed to say in English. "Gabriel Reyes is alive, when did- When- HOW?" his hands were gesturing uselessly as he stayed sitting on the floor. "How is this happened?" he demanded gruffly, turning to look at Reaper with a careful glare. "You could not have told us?"

"Gabriel Reyes is _dead_ goddamn you," Reaper snarled, accepting the cup back. "Jack Morrison is stuck in some sort of fucking limbo and you couldn't have found him before I did?"

"...Jack is-"

"His memories are fucked, cabrón, and you and your righteous fucking people couldn't find him when he was lost!" Reaper's upper lip was pulled back to expose a slightly sharpened set of canines. In the whites of his eyes, Winston could see a black cloud forming as if his iris were leaking into it, draining to make room for the red filling it in. "What fucking use are you pendejos when you can't even tell that your teammate, your supposedly golden boy is still here?!"

He turned his head, hand clenching tightly around the cup he still held. 

What little exposed skin he had was turning a mottled sort of gray color, the color of a corpse. It came in patches, tracing paths across his face almost like water damage. His chest was heaving, his harsh words still spilling across his lips as he refused to look at either of them, his eyes pinned on the monitors. 

"Reyes," Reinhardt spoke softly, slowly standing up. 

Corrupted eyes snapped back to him. "You couldn't fucking save him? You couldn't have done an extra sweep of the forest near the headquarters?" Reaper's darkness started to fade away, his hands shaking as the scarier parts of his personality receded. "He stayed there until the search crews cleared out, ran to the farthest parts of it. You couldn't have found him instead of me?"

The cup clattered to the floor as he seemed to withdraw into himself. "You couldn't have saved him?" his arms were crossed over his chest, eyes downcast, bottom lip trembling gently. "I couldn't save him. I didn't even _try_ , lo que está mal conmigo..."

Reaper pressed his hands into his face, cupped his palms over his eyes and keened quietly. "And now he might be gone forever, even when he's here, Dios mío."

From underneath his hands a few tears slipped out. 

For a moment, Reinhardt stood there and watched him. When Reaper's shoulder shook, no noise escaping him, the older man put a hand on his back. Muttering soothingly in nonsensical syllables, a mixture of German and English, he looked at Winston. "Is there an explanation?"

"Soldier 76," Winston gestured to the screens. "We've been working with Jack for months now."

Reinhardt's eyes followed the movement, his face suggesting he wanted to cry right along with his former teammate. "Mein Gott," he whispered once more, continuing to try and calm Reaper down. 

He seemed to be ignoring the faint clouds of black smoke.

Winston figured it was for the best.

**Author's Note:**

> :D Hello Reinhardt and Winston, I like you two. Welcome to the party.
> 
> Anyone want to comment and tell me what they liked best? What they hate me for? 
> 
> Chubby nerd, They want to know. If you want to shout about the story at me on Tumblr, I'm Krasimer or LookUponMyWorksYeMighty. I'm friendly, I promise. I write angst and sad and tortures both emotional and physical, but I'm a nerdy little dork who makes incomprehensible noises when complimented.


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